Memories

Memories are funny things,
Often obscured-
By gossamer wings.
They take flight
In the dark of night
And bring us back down to Earth
In a terrible fright.

Memories are fields
With bountiful yields.
They need to be nourished
If they are ever to be cherished.

My earliest memory
Was of a Roman life
Existing through time
With powers a rife!

Thunderous boots
In a torch light parade
Would that I wish
This were just a charade.

Like the beat of my heart
Of me it was part
As this new life did start.